Sunday, 31 May 2009
Not going to go into a great deal of detail (although I might come back and add that in).
The Devotees took the left flank on the battlefield looking across to the vast majority of the Dwarf army. The Tzeentch army took the right flank along with a unit of my warhounds and my chariot and they were going to be marching on mostly the Dogs of War. We got the first turn and so began moving forward. I moved my Shaggoth into the woods as my army was marching towards a hill with an entrenched cannon, an organ gun and a bolt thrower as well as the anvil of doom behind the hill. My Daemon Prince started out on the far left behind the Knights and my other unit of warhounds. Magic on the first turn was a complete waste for both the Devotees and the Tzeentchian allies. The opponents had a very strong first turn. Their combined shooting took out most of Throgg's trolls causing a panic test which he failed and then failed the re-roll! They then did the same to my Dragon Ogres causing them to flee. The Dragon Ogres never rallied but Throgg did only to flee when charged by a giant and leave the table! I also lost my Marauder Horsemen. The Anvil of Doom (with Thorek) used Rune of Wrath and Ruin on my Daemon Prince, my Shaggoth and Frankie's Ogres (I think). The rune caused 2 wounds on both my Daemon Prince and the Shaggoth and more importantly crippled their movement for the next turn.
Turn 2 didn't really seem much better for us with the exception that Frankie got off Infernal Gateway and rolled an 11 for strength sending a large unit of Pikemen into the realm of chaos to be munched upon by all manner of daemons! However, a number of Frankie's ogres were killed by shooting as were all but the unit champion in my great weapon wielding warriors (also the Battle Standard Bearer and my Sorcerer in that unit survived). Everything else made it's way forward and on the right flank a chaos spawn began a 3 turn battle with another Giant with initial help of my chariot which was quickly squashed but took 4 wounds off on impact but nothing in combat.
Turn 3 was a real case of damage limitation. I ran the sole surviving unit champion and my level 2 sorcerer into the woods to hide where they would spend the rest of the game unharmed with my sorcerer trying to use Titillating Delusions but only managing to cast it once in turn 5 and adding nothing else to the combat other than draining the odd dispel dice. The Battle Standard Bearer joing my unit of warriors with additional hand weapons that also contained my chaos lord general. Magic was largely ineffective for me but Frankie managed to cast Infernal Gateway again and again rolled an 11 for strength taking out a large unit of longbeards and a thane. Our opponents in their turn continued to cause a fair amount of damage with their shooting and thanks to the anvil managed to get a rear charge on my remaing unit of warriors with their mercenary horsemen and a frontal charge with a unit of dwarf warriors. I thought I would be in a lot of bother here but the dice gods were very kind. My chaos lord entered a challenge with a dwarven champion who after taking a wound he chopped into quarters. Then my warriors lost only a single one of their number to the combined attacks of both enemy units and when they hit back they hit back hard. They took out the whole unit of mercenary horsemen and decimated the dwarves causing them to flee and they were duly cut down.
Turn 4 started with my charging the warriors into a unit of handgunners standing infront of all the warmachines on the dwarven hill. Their charge reaction killed 1 warrior. The Daemon Prince flew over the heads of the dwarves to the side of the hill and the Shaggoth finally managed to make it out of the woods. My magic was mostly ineffective although over on the other flank Frankie was causing bother with his Tzeentchian magic for the Dogs of War. In combat my warriors tore the handgunners apart with my unit champion decimating theirs in a challenge. The warriors overran into the organ gun crew. Their turn 4 started with a large block of dwarven warriors failing their panic test from the daemon prince (who had Diabolic Splendour of course) and stopping 1" short of the table edge and a unit of handgunner also failing and fleeing straight into the advancing Shaggoth. The cannon fired it's grapeshot at the daemon prince but Be'Lakor proxying for Elazar passed all of his ward saves and suddenly the battle looked to have turned on its head. My Chaos Knights were charge by another unit of mercenary horsemen but easily beat them in combat running them down as they fled. The chaos warriors took out the organ gun crew and then overran into the bolt thrower crew (the 6 frontage helped for clipping each unit one after another)
Turn 5 saw my Daemon Prince relocate to the centre of the battlefield where a unit of Hammerers and the Dwarf Lord had exposed their rear to him and their flank to a unit of Dragon Ogres after pursuing a defeated enemy. The Knights charged the Dwarven warriors an inch from the table edge to make sure they fled the table and the shaggoth charged into the cannon sending the crew fleeing but stopping just short of the table edge again. In the magic phase I managed to cast Ecstatic Seizures on the hammerers killing 1 and taking a wound from the lord but that was it for me. In combat the warriors destroyed the bolt thrower crew and finally overran into Thorek and his anvil (which had been their eventual target all along). Our opponents were on the ropes now although the Dogs of War were in a better position than the dwarves and continued to pepper the Tzeentchian warriors with cannon balls and crossbow bolts. In combat the Chaos Lord challenged Thorek and caused a wound taking none in return whilst around him the Battle Standard Bearer and the warriors battered the anvil guards and the other two characters whose names escape me now.
Turn 6 my Shaggoth charged into a Dogs of War wizard and the Knights moved to take a table quarter. The Daemon Prince charged into the rear of the hammerers as Frankie's Dragon Ogres went into the flank. In combat the Shaggoth destroyed the Wizard who to his credit had passed his terror test and stood to fight! The challenge between Thorek and the Chaos Lord continued with my Lord causing another wound and taking no damage in reply. The Daemon Prince was saved from the Dwarf Lord by a Dragon Ogre champion who accepted the challenge taking 3 wounds from his always strikes first runic axe before clobbering him to death in retalliation. Then the remaining Dragon Ogres and the Daemon Prince did enough damage to rout the hammerers and ran them down. Our opponents had little left to do in turn 6 except some desperate last ditch charges with crossbowman over on the Tzeentchian side of the battlefield. The challenge between Thorek and the Chaos Lord ended in a stalemate with no wounds caused so his stubbornness kept him on the table until the end.
I know that's hardly the most comprehensive report but at the end of turn 1 and turn 2 we were a little worried as some of our hardest hitting units were decimated. We got lucky with 2 Infernal Gateways going off at strength 11. My unit of Chaos Warriors with additional hand weapons were absolutely phenomenal. They don't usually do all that well but the addition of the Chaos Lord really seemed to make them tick and they almost singlehandedly took out the Dwarven army! If it wasn't for Thorek's nigh invincible saves they'd have made a Solid Victory a massacre!
Just for reference my army list was:
Elazar The Glorified
Level 4 Wizard
Mark of Slaanesh
Fury of the Blood God
Mark of Slaanesh
Crimson Armour of Dargan
Collar of Khorne
Favour of the Gods
Neron The Destroyer
Battle Standard Bearer
Mark of Slaanesh
Armour of Morrslieb
Gaizka The Warped
Level 2 Wizard
Mark of Slaanesh
Book of Secrets
10 Chaos Warriors
Mark of Slaanesh
Additional Hand Weapons
- Amador was in this unit
10 Chaos Warriors
Mark of Slaanesh
Banner of Wrath
- Neron and Gaizka started off in this unit
Mark of Slaanesh
5 Marauder Horsemen
Mark of Slaanesh
5 Chaos Knights
Mark of Slaanesh
Mark of Slaanesh
3 Dragon Ogres
Dragon Ogre Shaggoth
Friday, 29 May 2009
Amador and his knights brought their steeds to a halt at the foot of the tower. Its cruel spire stretched into the sky as if clawing at the chaos moon.
“I’ll go up alone, he ordered to his silent Knights as he dismounted and entered the gloomy spiralling stairway that led up. Gaizka had taken them past the tower and had known of its occupant but for whatever reason had avoided making any contact. Amador hoped that it was because he felt threatened by this individual’s power. The stairs wound upwards and upwards and after a short climb Amador was able to hear conversing voices. Eventually he could make at the glow of candle light at the top of the staircase when he reached the top of the tower the stairs ended in a small circular room with a balcony looking down over the door where his knights waited. In the centre of the room was a table with a wax candle burning in a holder made from a preserved amputated foot with dark leathery skin and blackened nails. The candle cast light about the room and at the far side two yellow eyes moved their attention from a man in a cage to Amador who had intruded in the tower.
“Trespasser!” cursed the voice behind the eyes, a voice that sounded more bestial than human. The voice’s owner stepped forward, it was a northman dressed in ragged furs and leather armour. The man’s eyes were yellow with no discernable pupils and his voice wasn’t of this world. Amador had seen one of the shamans appear this way amongst the tribes when he had opened his soul up to possession by a daemonic entity. “Leave here!” screamed the possessed man and he lunged forward at Amador knocking him to the floor. His armour protected him from the blows the possessed man rained down on him with his bare hands. The man’s hands were streaming blood, sliced to ribbons by the spikes and blades on Amador’s armour when Amador smashed an armoured fist into the side of his head sending him sprawling and was up to his feet in a flash. This time he was ready when the man leapt at him again, screaming, “Blood for the Blood God!”
Amador side stepped the man possessed by the Khornate daemon and slammed an elbow into the back of his head as he went past him. He was quickly upon the man lifting him to his feet and jamming a punch into his cheek before grabbing him by the throat. The man was light to Amador’s strength and he took him to the balcony, squeezing his throat tightly.
“Tell me your name, daemon!” Amador roared. The man spat blood at Amador and Amador responded by taking a cruel hooked dagger from his belt and stabbing it into the man’s side above his hip, drawing a bestial roar of pain.
“What’s your business here?” he demanded but the only answer the possessed man gave him was cruel laughter. He pulled the dagger free, the cruel blade tearing a more vicious wound as it was removed.
“I am a servant of Elazar and Shornaal,” Amador began, the name of his god bringing an angry hiss. “Tell me why you’re here or I’ll destroy you.”
The possessed man gave no answer and Amador felt no need to attempt to bargain further so threw the man over the balcony. He heard the noise of the panicked horses below after the impact of the body and he heard the vicious reprisals the horses received from their masters. Amador went back into the room at the top of the tower and approached the cage. The man in there was a dishevelled looking man, clearly a southerner who’d been taken captive.
“A pathetic creature,” said a quiet voice from the darkness. “The southerners are weak, easily bent to our will, Amador. More importantly their souls are good currency with daemons.”
“Who are you?” Amador asked, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness where the voice had come from.
“My name is Isidro Devante. I knew you were coming Amador,” a tall man dressed in long robes with a helm hiding his features stepped slightly into the light.
“How did you know?” Amador asked.
“Elazar told me,” Isidro answered. “He said you would come here to ask for my help. Gaizka would never have had the stomach to come here….”
“And will you help me?”
“For a price,” Isidro responded. “One half of all the slaves taken.”
Amador nodded silently. He couldn’t afford not to enlist the sorcerer’s help but the cost was very steep indeed.
Wednesday, 27 May 2009
I definitely can't seem to get the white to look effective on the minis without taking it to bleached bone which instantly makes them look like Chaos Blood Ravens. So I'm going to try the above...
Monday, 25 May 2009
Thursday, 21 May 2009
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Some more fluff from our Fantasy campaign. The Devotees of Elazar suffered a massacre at the hands of a skaven raiding party so this is the fluff to go with that and a change of leadership for my army banner.
Some more fluff from our Fantasy campaign. The Devotees of Elazar suffered a massacre at the hands of a skaven raiding party so this is the fluff to go with that and a change of leadership for my army banner.
Gaizka did not understand what he saw. He had been sent to this shrine by his master to seek the blessing of the gods but the shrine had been despoiled and an effigy of a horned rat had been raised above the altar that now stood open to the elements. A number of large burrows were dotted around the area where the shrine had stood. Gaizka ordered his men to draw their weapons and turned to look at Amador when he heard the approaching hoof-fall.
“Ratmen,” Amador said, his voice ringing with clear distaste. “There could be scores of them in those burrows.”
Gaizka nodded, saying nothing. He hadn’t encountered them but he had heard talk of the ratkin.
“We must retake the shrine, Amador. Rats are not going to deter me,” Gaizka answered, his tone full of scorn for the knight. “Make sure your men are ready.”
Amador turned, his horse snorting angrily he rode away.
Gaizka took his men forward cautiously, he didn’t expect to reach the shrine without resistance. He signalled for the hounds to be sent ahead and the tribesmen goaded them on. The hounds raced before the advancing army and the odd one darted down a burrow before darting back up. One hound darted down a burrow and after a moment there was a terrible yelp then suddenly the ratmen emerged. A tide of matted fur, teeth and rotten smells. From behind a small copse a few of the ratmen pulled a cannon crackling with warpstone energy and Gaizka heard Amador order the mounted tribesmen to run the rat crew down. Mere moments later Amador and his knights went charging past Gaizka and he instantly saw where they were heading. Three giant mutated rat creatures were being goaded forward by whip cracking ratmen. Clearly Amador wanted to stand out in the eyes of the gods. Gaizka smiled to himself. The glory was going to be his and not Amador’s.
“Slaughter them, kill them all!” he ordered as the growth on his back howled with excitement. The Warriors around Gaizka sped their pace towards the rat hordes as they emerged from their burrows. A group of the ratmen emerged not far from Gaizka and his men, they were dressed in green robes and dirtier than their kin, covered in foul pustules and growths and giving off a terrible stench. They saw the chaos warriors and charged towards them with some pace and suddenly they were amongst them, a swirling mess of fur and death. Gaizka saw his heavily armoured warriors being cut down with ease before they could even manage to raise their swords. Suddenly the Warriors began to break away from the combat trying to escape the frenzied onslaught of the plague-ridden ratmen. Gaizka couldn’t help himself but attempt to retreat with them, it was no use though, the ratmen were too fast, their numbers too great. They quickly turned the retreat into a rout cutting down Gaizka’s men without mercy and with ease. Gaizka was knocked from his feet by a cruel blow to the head and darkness followed…
Amador saw the Warriors waver and the whole battle line fell apart stranding him and the mounted tribesmen beyond their comrades. He cursed Gaizka and kicked his horse’s flanks charging recklessly towards the rat ogres, his knights at his side, raising their blades ready to strike. A bolt of energy exploded over the knights and he saw three of them fall from their horses. Only himself and his banner bearer rode on and crashed into the rat ogres. The charge was devastating and one of the creatures was quickly cut down by Amador and another took a vicious cut along its gut from the other knight. What little intelligence the beasts had recognised they were going to be torn apart and they turned tail and fled, their smaller masters left with little choice but to go with them. Amador rode them down, the beasts were easily slain with their backs to him. He surveyed the battlefield. The mounted tribesmen had been blasted by the cannon before they had gotten to it but the two men that were left were harrying the rat crew with their hooked flails not allowing them time to bring it to bear on what was left of the army.
The tribesmen on foot had run down some of the ratmen that had been pelting them using their slings and then had charged into a mass of spear armed rats but had seen their chieftain cut down by a particularly large and vicious ratman. Their nerve had gone and they fled a short distance before someone managed to regain control and they fought back against their pursuing foe but their fight was short lived and soon they turned to flee again but the ratmen were upon them quicker this time and cut them down at their leisure. Amador rode around and saw the mounted tribesmen run down the ratman that had fired the bolt of warp energy at his knights but they in turn were quickly caught by another large group of the creatures and turned to flee their horses keeping them safe. Amador spied yet another group of the ratmen approaching him their spears waving with menace. He rode amongst them cutting down a couple but he was outnumbered and the day was clearly lost. He cursed Gaizka as he signalled the retreat.
Gaizka hobbled into the darkened shrine, the head-growth on his back hissed like a cornered cat, sensing the unseen threat that lingered in the air. He’d regained consciousness and with the help of a few of the survivors had managed to slip away from the battlefield, slinking over the mangled corpses of his followers. After an hour or so of wandering in the dark he had encountered Amador. The knight had said little to him, offering a horse and riding in front of him. Amador had led them back to the temple of Elazar that sat just outside the walls of the citadel. Clearly he had wanted Gaizka to have to face his master’s wrath, he didn’t doubt that the knight had been disappointed to see that he had survived the calamitous battle with the ratmen.
“Devoted Gaizka,” a hissed whisper said and the sound echoed around the small shrine. Gaizka fell into prostration and the growth screeched in terror before finally falling silent. “Do explain your presence,” the whisper prompted.
“I have failed you, Master,” Gaizka answered, unable to stop the quivering in his voice. “The vile ratmen had taken some interest in the shrine and we were unable to remove them from it.”
“I know this Gaizka,” the voice replied once more in a whisper but with a hard edge marking the menace behind it. The whisper paused long enough for the growth n Gaizka’s back to let out another terrified shriek and caused Gaizka to wince at the unwelcome outburst. “I ask why you sully this place with your unworthiness?”
“I come to plead for your mercy even though I do not deserve it. I will go back to the shrine and my army will remove the taint of the ratmen…”
“My armies!” the whisper was suddenly a roar. “These people bow to me. You are but a link in the chain.”
A large creature stepped into the flickering light of the candles. Great feathered wings unfurled from its back and long chitinous claws snapped in place of hands. It walked towards the prone Gaizka and prompted him up with a delicate touch of one of those claws.
Gaizka looked up at the bestial but glorious face in awe. His awe was replaced with terror as he felt invisible bonds tighten around him, holding him in place and constricting his breathing. He tried to scream but as he opened his mouth he felt his airways block and he retched against the oppression. The Daemon sliced the bladed inside of a claw down Gaizka’s face, peeling away the skin in a stream of blood and gore.
Amador heard the shrill roar of something beyond the dark entrance to the shrine and steadied his steed as it threatened to bolt from the unnatural noise. A chorus of whispers echoed out from the shrine. The whispers divulged dark secrets and promised terrible things, each of them seemed to address Amador. The whispers suddenly increased in pitch and volume becoming a cacophony of hissing and shrieking before falling abruptly silent. Amador looked about him. He stood alone, his knights having moved away from the shrine along with the footmen and the tribesmen.
With a wet thud a mess of flesh, bone, and tattered cloth landed in front of his horse causing it to shriek and buck in terror. Amador kicked the beast’s flanks, angry at its fear, he brought it back around and dismounted.
He reached down to the mess and moved the rags aside, revealing the bloody skull of Gaizka The Warped, it had been completely stripped of flesh. He wrenched it from the neck, tearing sinew and snapping bone to do so. He looked the skull over in his hands and behind the helm a cruel smile spread across scarred lips. He would not have to go through the difficult business of removing the sorcerer now. He dropped the skull on the ground in front of him and stamped a heavy booted foot onto it, splintering the bone into small pieces. Gaizka had not been a worthy servant of their dark patron. Amador was going to prove he, however, was.
Saturday, 16 May 2009
Since the fall there had been little activity from the Angels Exemplar. A few raids by small warbands including renegades clearly from the chapter had taken place but nothing of any significance. This was until without warning 'The Wrath of Sikandar' arrived in the Jakoba system with a large accompanying fleet. The Jakoba system's principal planet was the home of the Silver Saints Space Marine Chapter and this was where the Angels Exemplar hastened to. The Imperial Navy and the Silver Saints' vessels that were in the system were no match for the might of the Angels Exemplar's chapter fleet and soon they were able to close on the planet. An orbital bombardment took out the shields protecting the Silver Saints' Fortress Monastery and then a full ground assault was launched...
So early, early, early WIP pics of the first attack squad.
Aspiring Champion w/ Plasma Pistol and Power Sword
Chaos Space Marine w/ Bolt Pistol and Close Combat Weapon
Chaos Space Marine w/ Flamer
Chaos Space Marine w/ Bolt Pistol and Close Combat Weapon
Chaos Space Marine w/ Boltgun
There are a number of different part been used in creating this attack squad. I have used the following kits:
Chaos Space Marine Attack Squad
Chaos Warriors (helmets)
Chaos Knights (Aspiring Champion's helmet and powersword)
Chaos Marauders (Shoulder pads)
Dark Angels Veterans (Robes, plasma pistol, powersword arm, Mk 8 armour)
Space Marine Tactical Squad (Flamer)
Chaos Vehicles Accessory (Boltgun)
Bloodletters of Khorne (Horns)
The idea is to try and make each marine slightly unique as I would imagine that a marine unbound from his imperial responsibilites and codes of behaviour would develop more of his own identity than he might previously have had.
Angels Exemplar Marine (Pre-Fall)
Angels Exemplar Marine (Post-Fall)
The Angels Exemplar chapter of Space Marines was a 26th Founding Chapter created 738.M41. The Angels Exemplar are descendents of Rogal Dorn although their Gene Seed is taken from the Dark Hands chapter. A elite cadre from the Dark Hands chapter trained the initial neophyte marines and made up the HQ for the Chapters first steps.
The Angels Exemplar were a fleet based chapter this enabled them to respond quickly to situations and helped them gain valuable combat experience in their early years despite the lack of trust the chapter was held in as they were able to react faster than other chapters due to their lack of size. The Chapter was based around the massive flagship His Holy Wrath which bore the lodgings of the Chapter Master and his staff. Since their fall the flagship bears little resemblance to the Imperial Vessel and has undergone a name change. Now known as The Wrath of Sikandar sightings of the vessel are a dark omen indeed.
The Angels Exemplar proved themselves to be experts of medium to short range combat and in particular guerilla actions in urban environments. They quickly made themselves invaluable to the Ordo Hereticus in erradicating heretical cults. The ease with which the Angels Exemplar responded to the Ordo's requests and the zeal with which they put down the enemies of the Emperor led for them to become a much trusted resource of the Inquisition. The way that the Angels Exemplar make war since the Fall has changed little except they now readily work terror into their battle plans making extensive use of plasma weapons and flamers before they close for hand to hand combat where the full ferocity of their unbound personalities comes to the fore.
The manner of the campaigns in which the Angels Exemplar were used primarily meant that the chapter was organised primarily into small combat squads and because of the close range style of fighting employed by them the chapter had a proportionally higher number of assault squads in comparison to other Codex chapters. Since the Fall there is a far less rigid organisation to the Angels Exemplar. The combat squads used by the chapter before are now very common with the most worthy fighter in a group leading it as its Champion. There is still a very clear Headquarters to the chapter and a number of subordinate warbands with their own internal hierarchies.
It is unclear when exactly the seeds of the Angels Exemplar's fall were planted but what is known is that despite their close work with the Ordo Hereticus and their zeal in putting down powerful cults such a religious deviation began to occur within the chapter. Some Marines within the Chapter fell into the veneration of four animal aspects. These were the Eagle, the Serpent, the Dog and the Crow. This cult within the chapter slowly spread and it slowly became clear that the leaders of the cult were truly communing with the dark powers that reside within the warp. An internal conflict began within the chapter after the assassination of a number of Chaplains in 881.M41 brought knowledge of the cult's existence to the fore. After much brutal fighting those loyal to the cult (who were in the vast majority) wrestled control of the chapter fleet and systematically routed out those Battle Brothers that wouldn't side with them. The Headquarters of the Chapter was much changed within this time and Sikandar who had been a Veteran Sergeant before The Fall rose to become Master of the Angels Exemplar. His first act was to open fire on the Imperial Navy escorts that accompanied the chapter and then the chapter fleet made for the Eye of Terror heeding the call of their new gods.
Space Marine images created using http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/smp.php
Friday, 15 May 2009
Gaizka The Warped hobbled to the top of the hill and looked down on the village in the distance. Amador’s warhorse snorted impatiently to Gaizka’s side. The sorcerer glance at the leering skull helmed knight. He had the feeling the steed was echoing its master’s feelings. Amador didn’t look at Gaizka as his voice echoed from within his helm.
“Should I ready them, Lord?”
“Yes,” Gaizka answered. “I want prisoners. We shall let our master decide the fates of the Norscans.”
There was no reply from Amador but Gaizka felt he could hear disgust in the snort and shrieking whinny of the knight’s steed.
Within moments war horns were blaring and Amador’s knights rode to the crest of the hill and hurtled down it towards the village. Packs of hounds ran alongside them barking excitedly at the prospect of fresh meat.
Gaizka began the descent of the hill and within moments his warrior bodyguards were at his side marching silently towards the ringed palisades of the Norscan village.
Off to his right Gaizka heard the shouting of the mounted tribesmen just before he felt the tremors in the ground. He knew not where they had come from but two giants were hurtling towards his force bellowing war cries.
The hounds yapped hungrily and sped towards the giants unfazed and this seemed to refocus the horsemen who wheeled around the nearest of the giants. A horn sounded again as the knights began a thunderous charge towards the other giant, Amador riding with his sword held aloft and roaring a battle cry.
Gaizka’s warriors and the mob of tribesmen marched on foot following up behind the cavalry, spoiling for the fight to come.
The nearest giant was trying to swat a pack of hounds that were snapping ferociously at its heels. The brute had an extra arm that ended in a gnarled club like appendage and tusks jutted from its mouth. One of the hounds leapt onto the giant’s leg and bit into the flesh there bringing a roar of pain from the giant. The creature grabbed the hound in its massive hand and squeezed the life out of it before throwing the mangled corpse at the horsemen that had began to circle it, lashing at its legs with their hooked flails. The hound’s corpse hit one of the horses with such force that it knocked it from its feet and the horse following close behind had no time to move before it collided into and tangle of man and beast.
The other giant had a disfigured, cyclopsian face and two large horns sprouted from its head. It was swinging its massive tree trunk club at Amador and his knights were doing their best to move their heavily armoured horses aside whilst trying to make the most of any openings. Amador stabbed his sword into the giant’s left leg and the cut its arm as it tried to swat at him but missed. Angered further the giant swung the club in a wide arc and unhorsed three of the knights and their steeds bolted, shaken.
The growth on the back of Gaizka’s head was gabbling with anger as he watched the mess the giants were making but Gaizka remained unshaken. His warriors went with him to support Amador and the tribesmen went to aid their mounted kin against the other giant. The tribesmen quickly closed ground swinging their massive two handed axes into the beast’s feet. Meanwhile their mounted kinsfolk hooked and chained its legs. The beast toppled to the ground and as quickly as they’d moved for it to fall the war hounds leapt upon the beast and began to feast upon its flesh. The Marauder Horsemen quickly turned their mounts and raced towards the second giant their thirst for battle not yet sated.
As Gaizka and his bodyguard charge at the giant he saw Amador was knocked off of his horse by a swipe of the giant’s hand and landed a short distance away.
The warriors alongside Gaizka darted around the giant’s legs slashing with their blades and when the war hounds and horsemen entered the melee the beast was quickly brought down. As it fell one of Gaizka’s bodyguards shove him aside. The warrior was crushed under the weight of the giant’s shoulder and Gaizka hauled himself to his feet with his staff thankful for his follower’s timely sacrifice. The war hounds and tribesmen were quickly upon the beast ready to snuff out the last of its life.
“Stop!” roared Gaizka, the head on the back of his own joining in with a harsh shriek. Man and beast stopped motionless. “The creature might yet be of use. Bind his arms and legs!”
Amador stalked over to Gaizka. He seemed uninjured except for the wound to his pride.
“Who’s this?” his voice asked, tinny behind the helm. A horse was riding out from the village with a man astride it. As it drew nearer it became clear that the man was strapped to the horse and his head had been removed and strapped in front of him on the saddle. The corpse was dressed in an ornate suit of armour and wore a heavy fur cloak.
“That would be the village’s chieftain. It would seem they surrender,” Gaizka answered a smile creeping onto his face.
“Cowards,” spat Amador stalking away.
A unit of Chaos Wariors with additional hand weaposn that I am working on. I've used lots of the Knights helms etc in here to try and give each warrior a unique look within the unit. I made a Slaaneshi symbol shaped helm for the champion using Dark Elf parts chopped up. Also in the second picture is a Chaos Sorcerer waiting to be painted.
I'm converting a chariot from a Tomb Kings chariot. The crew have Chaos Knight torsos and Chaos Warrior legs. This still needs a lot of work before it is ready to be painted.
These were the first minis I did on getting back into the hobby and also my first real experiment with milliput. I wanted to make greatsword wielding Warriors as at the time there wasn't any modelling options for Greatweapon armed Chaos Warriors and I really liked the idea of Slaaneshi warriors with two-handed swords. They're far from brilliant and to be honest now I think they're possibly the weakest looking unit I have made but they were an important learning experience. I plan on improving the painting of these as they need a lot of work on the shading. The swords are taken from the Bloodletter plastics again. Oh and the freehand banner is very poor but I'm praticing my freehand skills so hopefully I'll be able to do a better job of this someday!
The warhounds are pretty much just straight out of the box. However, I hate the horns for them so I sculpted fur over the slots for these so that I wouldn't have to use them! These were speedpainted to quickly finish the unit off and were very easy to do with a fairly good effect I think.
I'm not a massive fan of the heads on the Marauders as they look a little ridiculous in my opinion so I decided to use warrior helms to make them look more like the old metal marauders. I wanted them to have greatweapons as well and these were converted from the flail hafts and different weapon heads from all over the place. There are some Chaos Warrior weapons, an old undead horsemen axe head, and couple of 40k Ork axe heads too. I also wanted to give them the flayed skins of their fallen foes as decoration so there is the odd cloak, mask, etc made of flesh in a Menghill Manhides Manflayers esque way.
These need a little bit of work on the paintjob mostly another highlight on the flesh and some more shading on their armour.
I didn't do a great deal of converting on these as the new plastics are awesome models I think. The only thing I did was sculpt a pointing finger on the hand of the central horseman in the pics and used a flail from the foot Marauder sprue.
I'm quite pleased with these. The bases need some static grass added and the musician needs a shield or something added to his left hand but that's about it.
The Chaos Knights came out quite well I think. I replaced the horns on the helmets with Bloodletter horns and used the a couple of heads from the Warriors sprue as well on the champion, musician and one of the rank and file Knights.
I made the Dragon Ogres from the Dark Elf Cold Ones and Black Orc torsos. I wanted to create Dragon Ogres descended from one of the ancient Shaggoths who hadn't had any qualms about selling his soul to the chaos powers unlike his more cautious brethren. I decided the best way to show this and the most Slaaneshi would be to keep the reptillian heads of the Cold Ones. They were fairly easy to make (although cutting the Black Orc torso below the gut was hard work!) without needing too much green stuff/milliput.
“Rejoice,” he told me, “for I am Elazar.” For his fell deed Slaanesh gave the gift of immortality. He was elevated to Daemonhood and I stood in awe for I had witnessed the birth of the death of man. He rose into the sky on feathered wings, radiant, more glorious than the sun, it’s light paling in the Daemon’s aura. His harmonious voice filled the skies as he spoke to me then. My heartbeat froze, desperate not to besmirch the wondrous sound with its crude thudding.
“I am temptation, I am vanity. I am the voice that says yes when all other say no. I am the dark ambition that broods at the core of every man. I am your salvation and I am your doom. Love me or fear me, it matters not, you will be my slave.”
The mad writings of Rumpolt Staudinger who impossibly claims to have been present at the massacre at the Hospice for the Insane at Sensfeld. Staudinger’s insanity is matched only by his heresy. May this document provide further proof against him in his ongoing trial and may Sigmar’s righteous fires free him from his ravings!
- Witch Hunter Aldebrandt Veit
Elazar The Glorified is a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh. Such is his standing in the eyes of Slaanesh and indeed his arrogance that he is worshipped by many as a god in his own right. In the far north the Diatchi worship him in part as a proxy for Slaanesh but in part as a separate deity. The Diatchi are a collection of tribes of predominantly Kurgan stock, the tribes exist in a state of war with eachother but at times a High Zar is able to bring the lower Zar's of the tribes into line and lead them to war all the while the Daemon Prince watches over his Glorious Host...
The followers of Elazar are not confined to just the northern tribes. In the darkest depths of the forests of the Old World an ascending Beastlord is starting to gather the rival herds in the name of the Daemon.
And worse still in the heart of the Empire's cities the Cult of Elazar continues to attract more followers.
The Devotees of Elazar are my Warhammer Fantasy army. They are a Slaaneshi Warriors of Chaos force. I wanted to create a host dedicated to Slaanesh that didn't focus on the lust aspect of this particular god but instead on the vanity and pride aspects more. I also wanted to avoid the common pink/purple colour schemes used by Games Workshop and do something a little more original. I had always wanted to try a chaos army with a bone coloured armour as I thought this would give it a very unique look instead of the traditional cult colours or undivided black that Games Workshop use.
To start with I'll post pics and background of all of the finished characters for the army so far.
Neron The Destroyer
Neron spat at the ground, disgusted with himself. He'd followed that weakling Archaon. He'd seen the Gods turn their backs on the Everchosen and their glorious war had come to an abrupt halt. Now here he was making an inglorious retreat back north leading a handful of the tribesmen he'd led south for the promise of slaughter and rapine.
They'd marched for days and the grasslands had given way to tundra and the tundra had given way to the barren lifeless Chaos wastes. To start with their retreat had been greatly hindered by outriders and then by rival tribes still spoiling for war. Neron and his men had quickly dispatched all who stood in their way and offered up their souls to the Gods. In the distance Neron spied a lone building. Even from this distance he could make out the ornate decoration that adorned the strange building and new it at once to be a shrine.
He brought his men to a halt once they grew closer to the shrine and made the last small part of the trek alone. A breeze seemed to issue from the black engulfing portal of the shrine and the breeze carried dark whispers that prickled at Neron's ears. The archway was lavishly decorated with golden scrollwork and crude drawings on the walls, penned in dried blood, depicted writhing humans, presided over by a winged beast.
'Neron!' The whispers rose to a nerve shattering crescendo and then ceased. The blackness seemed to beckon Neron into it and his legs carried him in despite his doubting mind. The darkness engulfed him and his stomach lurched as if he'd been launched from his feet yet they stood on a floor of rounded stones. A very dim light rose around Neron and he could make out the floor around him and see the far wall about three paces away from him.
'Neron The Destroyer. Great Debaucher. Neron The Refulgent One,' came a harsh hissing voice.
'I am Neron. Who addresses me?'
'I know Neron. His path is clear to me. Great and terrible he might be. Foolishness and weakness are the paths he frequents for now.'
'Who addresses me!' bellowed Neron into the darkness as it seemed to grow around him once more.
'I am Glorious He,' the voice answered sharply.
'What do you want of me?'
'An answer,' the voice responded.
'What is your question?' Neron's agitation edging his words.
'Why did you follow the Jester, the Fool, the so called Everchosen?'
'It was the will of the Gods.' Neron answered flatly. He span around slowly trying to identify the source of the voice as it spoke to him once more.
'You know nothing of the Gods' will. The Fool was doomed to failure. Not a one of the Gods would share the spoils of war. My sweet father, my sweet mother would never bless such a being as he.'
'Tell me creature, what do you know of the Gods?' Neron felt a great force of static energy descend on him and he fell to his knees.
'Kneel!' The whisper rose to a roar then quickly receded back to a hiss. 'I can tell you all if you swear your soul to me wonderful Neron. I am Elazar, beloved of Shornaal. Glorified servant of Slaanesh. I can grant you powers your mind can't imagine. Show you things your eyes will not believe. You will feel sensations beyond your most depraved dreaming. Men and women will fall at your feet in awe and love. All you need to do is swear yourself to me.'
The static energy coursed through Neron's muscles and bones sending him into agonising spasms and he screamed tortured screams he never thought his body capable of. Harsh laughter filled the air and the spasms intensified. He heard movement, chitinous claws scratched at his skin but his eyes couldn't locate them.
'I swear,' Neron screamed between the wracking spasms. 'I'm yours.'
A hissed roar greeted him from the dark as a great winged beast stepped into the light and knocked him unconscious with a graceful swipe of a crab like clawed hand...
Isidro Devante stalked between the houses of the small town, enjoying the sounds of the carnage and the smells of the flames as the wind carried them both keener to his senses.
He'd allowed his men to enjoy the slaughter as long as they left ample numbers of captive to take back with them. Whilst the gods would revel in the destruction the warband had sown upon the small village, Isidro needed the slaves to dedicate their souls to the gods to bind some of their power to him.
Isidro rounded a corner and saw a peasant man bent over the body of a young woman who lay still and lifeless. The peasant man must have heard his foot falls or sense him in some other way as he looked up and stood abruptly to his feet, an axe in hand. His face was a vision of tormented rage and beneath his helm Isidro Devante allowed himself a smile at the man's anguish.
The main raise his axe and charged at Isidro.
He needed the slaves but Isidro reasoned that he should allow himself a little enjoyment too. He summoned his energies and made a brief and silent dedication of the man's soul to his patron Elazar. The man ran across the clearing and down the row of houses towards him. Isidro Devante thrust out his hand holding aloft in the other the symbol of the gods, the focus for his power and clutch at the life force of the man as if it were a physical, tangible thing. The man collapsed to his knees, dropping his axe and grasping at his throat a few paces from Isidro.
Terror flooded into the man's eyes, as if it had been held at bay by a dam but that dam had splintered and crashed down under the pressure. Isidro Devante chuckled to himself and tightened the pinch hold on the man's soul. The man began to choke violently and his hands ripped frantically at his throat with growing force and tore away layers of flesh. The eyes of the man glazed over and he thrust his hands into his own throat, his nails plunging into red ruin.
Isidro took three paces towards the man, not relaxing his grip. He smiled an unseen smile of malice as the man destroyed his own throat and airways and the decided to put him out of his misery, thrusting an armoured boot into the man's ribs. He was sent sprawling backwards, the last of the air in his lungs knocked from his and his life expelled.
Isidro Devante continued on, stalking through the town. He'd keep the next one alive he promised himself.
Gaizka The Warped
Gaizka was jostled aside by a group of drunken tribesmen. Normally he wouldn't think twice about issuing violent retribution but he was in the camp of the High Zar, whilst he had the ear of his Zar he couldn't risk inciting the wrath of his master's master. At least not yet. The grotesque growth that had grown from the back of Gaizka's head chattered angrily at the offence and Gaizka made a shushing noise as if to sooth it. The growth had started out merely as a voice inside his head. It had whispered dark secrets to him and the more he had listened the more it had shared and then it began to grow. Once fully formed it didn't share its secrets as willingly and often jeered and taunted Gaizka when they were alone together, but it didn't act against Gaizka, and it worked hard to protect its host when necessary.
The tribes had been brought together under the High Zar but as in all things with the tribes distrust and violence slunk under the surface of the alliance and would soon be brought to the fore. That was what Gaizka intended to do. His master would take the position of High Zar but when the tribes were gathered for such a divine purpose by the otherworldly patron he couldn't make the first challenge. So Gaizka looked to insight things.
Gaizka approached the campsite of the High Zar's shaman, Jamour. Whilst Jamour possessed a gift he could only dream of wielding power to match Gaizka's, for he was truly blessed by the Daemon Elazar.
Gaizka strode into Jamour's tent his aim to cause offence. Jamour leapt to his feet at the intrusion, he'd been wrapped in lavish furs and silks on the floor with one of the tribeswomen but moved with a frightening pace and dexterity. Within two seconds of Gaizka entering the tent Jamour had a staff in his hand and roared in anger sending a concussive wave of sound in all directions. Gaizka kept his footing and heard the clamour outside as men reacted to the sorcery taking their weapons in hand and fixing their armour. Gaizka acted fast, his withered frame might not move as fast as Jamour's but his mind summoned forth words of power with which to strike back and as Gaizka recited them the growth on the back of his head recited them also in a dark and terrifying voice, far removed from the chattering that normally issued forth.
Jamour screamed as a high pitched note that only he could hear built up in his mind. He thrashed wildly collapsing to the floor and knocking into the startled woman who had cowered away from the dueling sorcerers. His screaming began to rapidly rise in pitch until it began to match the note placed in his mind by Gaizka. The sound was horrifying and the woman lost consciousness under its aural assault. The tribesmen outside could hear the note too, they were far enough removed from it that it only caused a ringing in their heads but the stopped their advance on the tent and shook their heads to clear them. The note died out as Jamour's mind burnt out in his skull, flames licked out through his eye sockets and mouth as the flesh burnt under white hot heat. Gaizka smiled as the flames leapt to the tent and turned to leave as the sound of battle started outside as the tribes descended on each other in fury.
Gaizka is probably my best character right now as the paintjob is the one that looks the most finished. He's just the standard Chaos Sorcerer on foot miniature with no conversion work whatsoever. He often leads my army in smaller battles and usually has the Book of Secrets and a Power Familiar to make him a very magic heavy character.
To start with I'll make another few posts doing a quick overview of everything I have done so far for those two projects with some background as well.